Blame it on the Bodice Rippers
by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa
Summary: How Prompto and Gladio bonded. (Glompto) for loveiscosmicsin


Blame it on the Bodice Rippers

 **By** : Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-

 **Author Notes** : This is for oveiscosmicsin, who asked if I shipped this pairing and I wanted to write meta but what came out was fic.

 **Warnings** : Mild sexual language, but nothing graphic. I feel confident in my T rating. If anyone has any issues with it, please send me a message.

* * *

Gladio can't stand Prompto at first. Really, honestly, surely, can not stomach him. The kid is way too full of laughter and smiles and sunshine, and seriously there is no possible way Noctis of all people can really keep a friend like Prompto for long before Gladio kills him.

Gladio ignores him at first, then becomes openly hostile. "Oh, you want to just drag off the prince to an arcade? Bring him back at two in the goddamn morning? Why does he smell of liquor, Prompto? This is your fault if he pukes in the back of the car. You are damn right I will kill you if you so much as scratch him."

And Prompto is nervous and terrified, because Gladio is big and imposing and absolutely nervewracking. As the Prince's bodyguard, it is kind of his job. And he does it well.

The first person who actually makes a move is Gladio. It's after Gladio gets his face cut open by a drunk, protecting Noctis and Prompto after the two forgot time and ended up in the Crown City, surrounded by a bunch of angry drunks in the middle of the night. One drunk was swinging that bottle around and Gladio could see it going at Prompto's throat. A scar to the face was better than a dead Prom.

Gladio tries to tell him it was because of Noctis. Noctis would have been hurt in all of his soft little gooey feelings if Prompto died. And yeah, that is true, but honestly? The little shit has grown on him. There was something that was on the edge of Prompto's chipper personality, and Gladio had a feeling he knew what it was, if only vaguely.

Loneliness.

Gladio knows loneliness, but not the same way Prompto does.

And Prompto? Prompto realizes that Gladio is willing to play along a lot more, as time goes by. They actually start to be… kinda friendly to one another. Noctis has zero interest in girls, but Gladio is willing to play along when they spot someone who is cute walking around, and while Prompto is all talk and boisterous teenager hormones, watching Gladio smoothly leg up to them and flash a hint of those brown eyes and the scar–"Got it protecting the crown prince from enemies. Had to have been a dozen of them, but I did my best. Oh, coffee? Yeah, sounds like a dream."– it is… well.

It is fucking hot.

Prompto also picks up on Gladio's love for books, and the hidden set of books Gladio uses a fake cover for whenever he is reading them out in public.

He never took Gladio as the type of guy to like trashy harlequin romance novels, but he does. He really does, and Prompto thinks it is… not cute, he wouldn't ever call Gladio cute to his face, but… endearing.

For his birthday, Prompto picks him up a copy of the newest book from a writer he knows Gladio likes, hiding the cover with something on mechanical equipment.

Gladio nods and thanks him, but doesn't open the cover. Prompto goes home and pulls out his own copy, reading over the words that seemed to pull the scary, worn bodyguard into their own little world.

Prompto knows when Gladio finally cracks the book open because he casually mentions the author on their drive home, bridging the topic about the tragic romance of the hero and the heroine.

"It's not fair that Lina and Hickson can't be together because of their parents feud. They love each other, yeah?"

"Uh… yeah, Prom. But really, the real tragedy is that their son ends up in the arms of the prince, who is a–"

"Massive dick?"

"I was gunna go with asshole, but yeah."

If Noctis is still awake, he doesn't bother to say anything.

These conversations go on every day when there is school, to the point where Prompto dreads the weekends. What kind of teenager dreads the weekends?

Gladio though, Gladio suddenly seems to have a pretty open weekend schedule, and training Noctis is a big priority, and hey–Prom should come along, learn some moves.

So it isn't a big surprise to Prompto when Gladio literally throws him down on his ass, and it fucking hurts, but Gladio is there with strong hands and something feels like a live wire under his skin and he can't fucking shake it.

"C'mon, Prom. Show me what you are made of."

And Prompto does, going straight for Gladio's left knee, then to the neck, and finally, somehow managing to scramble his way up to a standing position–oh.

The face was what he was going for, because Prompto knew when you are weak and vulnerable you need to hit back in the most effective way possible, and they have potions there for this kind of thing so it isn't like he can leave any lasting damage. But instead of the face he ends up with his hands threaded in Gladio's hair and their lips are open and honest and it's a long kiss with teeth and passion and a little bit of blood from where Prompto's nail nicked Gladio's forehead.

There is no going back after that.

Prompto can't forget and Gladio feels like glass, because anyone who holds him up to the light can see right through him.

Ignis figured it out first, and keeps mum on the subject. He just asks one question:

"How did you manage that?"

And Noctis?

Well, Noctis's eyes go wide and his jaw goes slack, then like a lightbulb suddenly getting a spurt of electricity, he just goes, "Ohhhhhhhhh. Those books. Got it."

Yeah, the books are probably the best way to explain it.

* * *

 **Please Review!**


End file.
